Torn Between Worlds
I woke up in a daze. Sweat dribbled down my face as imaginary needles pierced my temples and the back of my neck. The migraine was bad. I felt thin, like I had been stretched beyond my limits. I felt myself being pulled in two directions, ready to be torn apart between the demands of my friends and the needs of my family (my mom being recently diagnosed with Cancer). Two small communities of people, neither of which I wanted to lose. I changed who I was for each, and multiple late nights in a row made it clear that something needed to change. I needed to find my own identity so that I would not continue to over exert myself becoming a unique person for each group. Communities play a big role in our world. There are few people who are not part of a community, whether it be relational, physical, or emotional. Although the word community has an innately positive connotation, many individuals lose their identity in the course of attempting to belong. Stereotypes and labels can hinder individuals from finding their own identity, and some people often find themselves torn between two communities that demand different things from them. Communities offer the chance to belong to something bigger than oneself, but becoming engulfed in group ideals can cause an individual to lose their identity.
In contemporary America, individuality has become harder and harder to achieve. Carina Chocano writes an article regarding communities and the influence they have over the people in them. She argues that community is a word that is used to convey a sense of togetherness and self-sustainability. Labeling a group of people who have physical, emotional, spiritual, or cultural connections as a community succeeds in creating an image of unity and democracy. However, sometimes this is not the case. Thousands of online communities exist on platforms such as Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter. Whether they are fan pages, activist groups, companies, or people with similar interests, many often refer to these as communities, invoking a sense of utopia.
Nonetheless, it is these communities that grab hold of our lives and cause many people to become what these online groups say they should become. Joining an online community can give one a sense of belonging, but this “promise of community masks a whole other layer of control — an organizing, siphoning, coercive force with its own private purposes” (Chocano 3). Online organizations not only utilize personal information and data to make profit, but they also create the illusion that members of the online community are in control. Truthfully, many online groups feed off of their members to further their own agenda. Many people become persuaded to dress how their online group deems fit, act how they deem fit, or participate in events that are encouraged by the “community,” even if it means compromising their individuality to belong to a group. This sense of belonging and community is attractive because human beings are social creatures. We crave human contact, and we can now achieve that within seconds with the help of our mobile devices. Becoming completely engulfed in these online communities is when it becomes unhealthy. Many users walk blindly into being manipulated online and sacrifice their unique self image for that of their “community.” This communal predicament is prevalent online, but many people face the challenge of navigating the path between communities and self in the real world as well.
In the novel Catfish and Mandala by Andrew X. Pham, the main character, An, embarks on a physical and emotional journey through his past. As An travels throughout Vietnam, he encounters many situations in which he is labeled as “Viet-kieu.” This term, referring to Vietnamese who live outside Vietnam, is thrown onto An and becomes a central part to who he believes himself to be. He is treated differently in Vietnam because he carries the aura of America with him. For example, he is given the best passenger seat on a bus as he makes his way to Rach Gia. As An is leaving Saigon and heading to Hanoi, a procession forms around him as he rides his bike. When he tells them that he is Vietnamese American, many shriek, “Viet-kieu!” The label “sounds like a disease” to An (Pham 125). This “disease” has plagued An for most of his life. His journey of self-discovery is so that he might find himself outside of what his communities dictate him to be. Vietnamese culture prizes their first born sons. At home, An is the first born, and this label entails many responsibilities within his family. An is torn between his American and Vietnamese identity. They engulf him in waves of confusion. The Vietnamese believe America to be a prosperous and opportunity filled country, therefore An must be exactly that in the minds of native Vietnamese people. This stereotype only succeeds in muddling the path on which An is attempting to become an individual. His community has dictated his existence his entire life. Vietnamese culture has dictated his manners, how he acts, and how he must perform. He and his family are expected to follow certain guidelines, yet America contradicts many of these. His two gay brothers and transgender sister are an example of this. An is caught between his stereotypical Vietnamese community of order, expectation, and set guidelines and his stereotypical American community of freedom, independence, and unorthodox opportunities. This causes An to spiral. His “Viet-kieu” label pulls at An as he struggles to break his Vietnamese-American stereotype and discover his own identity within the two communities.
Similar to An’s experience, Lori Alvord finds herself caught between two communities: her Navajo Indian tribe and Dartmouth college. Alvord was raised in a tight-knit community where 98 percent of the population was Indian. Her initial impression of Dartmouth was one of shock. The culture there was completely different from what she had come to know as a Navajo. As a child, she had been indoctrinated with the values of being reserved, humble, and cooperative, whereas those at Dartmouth were loud, competitive, and placed more value on wealth. Because of this, Alvord felt alienated at her college. People seemed to “look right through [her],” not only because she was Navajo, but also because she was a woman (Alvord 319). The men at the college — Dartmouth recently having become coed — made little effort to incorporate the new, feminine faces at their university. The label that women received caused them to be overlooked and alienated. Stereotypically, women stay home, cook, clean, and have children. Men were not used to having to compete with women, much less a Navajo Indian woman, at school. Moreover, because Alvord was solely used to her Navajo community, it became a central part of her identity. At Dartmouth she felt “torn between worlds” and did not participate in class because of her Navajo ideals (Alvord 321). She was taught to “never draw attention to [herself],” and it impacted her studies (Alvord 320). She states that her identity as a Navajo correlated with a feeling of academic inferiority. Her beautifully unique Navajo community unknowingly took hold of Alvord’s entire identity. She became stuck navigating her path between Navajo Indian tradition and the new complexities of Dartmouth college, attempting to find her individuality and place in her new world.
Many communities give members a sense of safety and belonging. Some communities, however, influence those in their group and cause members to sacrifice their individuality in order to belong. Stereotypes and labels can affect how some people act and react in groups, as others struggle to find their own identity while being torn between various communities.
Works Cited
Alvord, Lori Arviso. “Walking the Path between Worlds.” The Language of Composition, Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2013, pp. 316–322.
Chocano, Carina. “What Good Is ‘Community’ When Someone Else Makes All theRules?” The New York Times, The New York Times, 17 Apr. 2018,www.nytimes.com/2018/04/17/magazine/what-good-is-community-when-someone-else-makes-all-the-rules.html.
Pham, Andrew X. Catfish and Mandala: a Two-Wheeled Voyage through the Landscape and Memory of Vietnam. Picador, 1999.
